Beside you
by clove25
Summary: She may not be his wolf, but he is still her dragon. AU; Rhaegar lives and is King.
1. Chapter 1

He is ecstatic the day he hears that she has accepted to marry him. She is his most beautiful dream, his she-wolf. The girl he has been in love with since he first saw her, wearing breeches and a dirty tunic, fighting with her brothers, matching every move with an astounding grace of her own.

She talked to him only after a few days of his arrival at Winterfell. Most of the time, she was with her brothers. Jon Snow, especially. The bastard son of the Lord of Winterfell.

She and Aegon talked about swords and fighting and King's Landing and the North, and that very night, laying in bed, Aegon realised he was very much in trouble. And in love.

He looks as the Warden of the North and his family come into view. He watches as Ned Stark unmounts from his horse and kneels before his father, the king. He sees Lady Catelyn, Robb Stark, Bran Stark and Rickon Stark. He smiles and bows but his eyes search for her face in the crowd. She comes out of the carriage finally, and Aegon decides he could look at her face all his life and never tire.

She kisses his father and mother on the cheek and comes to Aegon. He takes her hand and kisses it.

"Arya." He smiles.

"Aegon."

They hardly talk after she arrives. The whole castle gets busy taking care of the guests. As their parents decide to talk about wedding preparations, Aegon looks at Arya and asks her to come with him.

She takes his arm and walks with him.

"This is so unlike you," he comments.

"What is?"

"So silent. Are you nervous about the wedding?"

"Yes," she murmurs.

He turns around and takes her hands, kissing them.

"You do not have to. You are happy about this marriage, yes?"

"Yes," she says again.

"Good," he says, "I hope your family is having a good time here."

"Yes, I believe they are," she says.

"Isn't your sister coming?"

"She is. Lord Willas wrote they would arrive a couple days before the wedding."

"And your brother, Jon Snow? I haven't seen him. Isn't he coming? You seemed close."

Arya stills a moment before replying softly,

"He went to the Wall. He isn't coming back."

By the look on her face, Aegon decides to drop the subject. He takes her to his favourite spots in the castle. Arya is silent most of the way, but she smiles and Aegon thinks it's only because of nervousness, the same nervousness he feels.

As their wedding commences, Aegon takes her hands and looks at her clearly. Her long dark hair, pale face and the haunting grey eyes. And he truly believes that this union would be the happiest.

He enters their chambers. She is sitting on the edge of the bed. He closes the door and walks towards her. He lays a hand on her shoulder, but before he could advance, Arya looks at him and says,

"I must tell you something."

Aegon gently strokes her cheek.

"What is it, love?"

Arya looks him in the eye.

"This might come as a shock to you, My Prince, but I'm afraid I cannot share this bed with you unless I let this out of my heart." She takes a deep breath and continues, "I am no maiden, Aegon. I believe my father has told you otherwise, and I cannot blame him for it. He doesn't know. But you are my husband now, and it is your right to know about this."

Aegon watches her with wide eyes. Whenever he has thought of their wedding night, he imagined Arya coming to him as a maiden. He wanted to be her first. He knew it was wrong of her to keep him in the dark so long, but he cannot bring himself to blame her. He has known pleasure himself, being laid with a few women.

He takes Arya face in his hands and kisses her. As he lays her down on the bed and prepares to take her, Aegon realises that this girl, laying naked underneath him, hair ruffled and cheeks flushed, is one day going to be the death of him.

A couple of months pass, and Aegon falls more in love with Arya. She grows more accustomed to King's Landing, peforming her duties as the Lady wife of Aegon Targaryen, and also never losing her wolf-side. She duels with Aegon as much as she can, becoming as good a swordswoman as any other knight.

But this practice stops when one day she faints in the middle of a fight, and the Maester announces she is with child. Aegon takes care of her as if she is a fragile little flower, never leaving her side if he can help it.

The ravens arrive almost every week. The Wildings at the North of the Wall are attacking Castle Black. The Lord Commander Mormont asks for troops, and Rhaegar agrees, sending five hundred of the King's men.

One day though, the raven doesn't come for the King, instead it comes for Arya. As soon as Aegon tells her it is from Jon Snow, Arya runs to get it. Aegon calls behind her and asks her to be careful, but he doesn't think she hears his voice.

"I must go!" She shouts.

"It is not possible, Arya. You are carrying a child. You cannot travel."

"Aegon please!" She clasps his hands and he sees tears in her eyes. "He's injured, I must go to him!"

"Arya, there are other people. Your father. He'll visit him."

"No, you don't understand!" She shouts, pushing him away with her hands. "I will go to him! Nothing can stop me!"

"Arya," Aegon said, his anger slowly rising, "You will not go. It is your husband's command."

"Command?" Arya asked. "There is nothing in Westeros who can keep me away from Jon, Aegon. No power, no God, no man."

Aegon stands stunned at her declaration. Arya's voice sounds like a growl. She has never spoke to him like this. The way she spoke Jon's name made him uneasy. It sounded intimate.

"I will go, Aegon. You will not try to stop me, because you cannot. Either you arrange for me to go, or I ride there myself alone tomorrow."

He has to agree. He cannot bind her in chains. He arranges for twenty men to go with her, along with one of the Kingsguard. Arya leaves the next morning. She doesn't say to word to him, only stares and sits in the carriage, and doesn't even look back when the horses start to gallop.

His mother and father ask him why he let her go, with a Targaryen prince, his first-born, within her. Aegon doesn't answer.

For the first time, he revisits those moments he shared with Arya, and wonders whether they were just an illusion. An illusion to cover what her heart truly wants. Who she truly wants.

She comes back a fortnight later. As soon as she steps out of the carriage, Aegon notices the small bulge on her stomach, and a smile comes to his lips. But as he embraces her, he finds her numb in his arms. He looks at her face and she stares back. Her eyes look lifeless and her lip trembles, and Aegon understands what has happened.

Aegon watches as Arya caresses her belly, a hint of smile on her face. She hasn't spoken to him properly since her return. Not to anyone, actually, other than the usual greetings to his father and mother. She is lifeless, and lost and Aegon has no idea how he can heal her, when she won't even let him close.

She labours for one day. Her shouts echo the hall and Aegon clutches the chair he sits in. It is agony to hear her cries and not able to hold her. When they finally end, he rushes to the room.

"It is a boy, Your Highness," the midwife announces smiling.

Aegon's heart swells up with joy. He rushes to Arya's side. The baby smiles in her arms and she cuddles him close. Aegon leans in to look at his face. And he sees.

A fair boy with dark hair and dark grey eyes. He looks all wolf, every part of him. Aegon glances to his wife who is busy looking at her son. Aegon looks at her eyes and watches them shine. For the first time in months, Arya Stark is back.

"Can I hold him?" He asks softly.

Arya looks at him and nods. She gently puts the little bundle into his arms, and to Aegon the boy seems so different yet so familiar.

"Have you thought of a name?" He asks. The boy clasps his finger.

"Brandon. He is Brandon Targaryen."

It has been two months since the delivery and the Maester finally tells them both that they can be intimate again. Aegon is grateful and hopes now that Arya seems a bit more happy, the love between them can flourish again.

He enters the room and she is laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He walks over to her and sits at the edge of the bed, leaning in and stroking her cheek lightly. Arya's body trembles and she looks at him, as if she has just woken from a dream.

He closes in to kiss her but she sits up on the bed, slightly leaning away from his touch.

"What is it? Do you not want this?" Aegon asks.

Arya stands up and walks over to the window, facing away from him.

"I have already bore you a son, Aegon."

He approaches her and asks, his voice full of surprise,

"So what Arya? I do not want this so we can have a son. We are man and wife. I love you."

"I do not think I can...," her voice fades.

"I don't know what is wrong with you!" He shouts, turning her around to face him, "do you not love me Arya? These past months, we haven't even slept on the same bed. I let it go because you were not well. But what is it now?"

"I am not well now! I will never be well again!" She shouts back.

"It is not about being well, is it?" Aegon spits, anger surging through him like wildfire, "it is about that bastard! Ever since you came back, you've been a ghost. What if he died, Arya? Why should that affect us? Our marriage?"

Before Aegon could speak again, a small palm crashes across his face. Arya struggles against his hold and breaks free.

"It affects me, Aegon! You do not understand what he is to me! You never can!"

"Oh and what exactly is that? A brother who died? Or a lover? Do not think me foolish, Arya Stark. Or blind. I can see. Is Brandon really a Targaryen? Is it merely a coincidence his features are all Stark and not even one a Targaryen?"

"I have bore you a son, Prince Aegon. I have given you an heir. Brandon is a direwolf, he will always be one. He bears the Targaryen name, that is enough for proving him as one," Arya says and prepares to leave. But before exiting, turns once more and says, chin high,

"If you must know, yes, it has nothing to do with being well. I simply do not wish to share my bed with you, and you cannot force me to."

Aegon wants to take her in his arms, pull her to the bed and make love to her fiercely. But he doesn't. He is not that man. Both of them were walking on a fragile line that was almost about to break, and Aegon decided that if he couldn't tie it again, he would cut it off completely, and free both of them.

That night he takes a girl of twenty or so to his bed. Her eyes are blue, and hair blonde, and Aegon is glad. He doesn't want to remember his wife's grey eyes and dark hair.

As he is pounding inside of her, and closes his eyes, Arya's face comes to his mind. But he opens his eyes instantly, looking at the girl writhing beneath him. He doesn't close them again, neither sees those grey eyes.

Aegon and Arya never share a bed, but Aegon brings a girl almost every week. When he looks at Arya, he can tell she knows. Everyone knows, probably. He cannot buy every girl's silence. What pains him is not that she has to know, but that she seems indifferent to it. As if she doesn't care, and Aegon wonders again what he did wrong that she cannot love him, and what that bastard did right, that even after death, he still seems to own the whole of her.

As Brandon grows up, Aegon cannot be more sure of who his real father is. He and Aegon are not similar in even one way. He has Arya's eyes though, deep and compelling. Everything about him is Northern. And as days pass, Aegon sees more of the bastard's features in him. The sullen smiles, the dark unruly hair, the calm demeanor.

He sometimes thinks he should probably have her executed for adultery, have her son banished. He thinks he cannot let a bastard sit on the throne after him. A throne meant only for a true Targaryen.

But despite himself, Aegon cannot truly hate her. She still has his heart, as she always will. She may not be his wolf, but he is still her dragon.

He is in love with her, as he'll be until he takes his last breath.

A/N: I had originally planned to make this a one-shot, but after I reread it, I felt like there were some things that may not make sense. So the next chapter is Arya POV, and it will be *majorly* Jon/Arya, depicting what really happened between them.

Hope you enjoyed this. Please don't forget to review. Any kind of feedback is appreciated. And loved. :)


	2. Chapter 2

The Godswood is silent except for the sounds of their breathing. She senses him coming closer even though he makes no sound. He doesn't need to.

"Arya...," his voice is low, almost a whisper.

"Run away with me, Jon," she pleads turning around and clutching his hand, "we will go away somewhere far, away from all of this."

"You know you don't really mean that."

"Jon!" She sighs in frustration, "I cannot marry him. I cannot! I am in love with you. I belong to you!"

"Arya."

She crashes to his chest and cries. He holds her tightly and kisses her hair, whispering soothing words.

"You know this was never going to be. Sooner or later, you have to get married."

They stay in each other's arms in silence. Arya feels her body go numb.

"Marry me."

Jon looks down at her with surprise.

"Marry me, Jon. Right here. Right now. You are the only husband I will ever have."

"But Arya, we cannot."

"Yes, we can. We love each other. There is no need for anything else. Please Jon, please."

Jon stares at her and Arya can see his hesitation. He is always careful. Total opposite of her carelessness, but despite it, they are the most similar in the family.

Arya thinks about Aegon. She doesn't understand why he thinks she'll marry him. But he does, and she cannot reject him. He is the Prince. And even if she did, her mother would hate her forever.

"Tell me, Jon. Will you marry me?"

His eyes locks on hers, two mirrors reflecting each other. He takes her hand and nods.

"Yes. We'll marry. Right now."

He holds her hand and takes her to the Heart Tree. They turn to each other and smile. Jon takes Arya's hands and takes a deep breath.

"Arya Stark, today in front of the Old Gods, in the most sacred place, I take you as my wife. I will love you for eternity. This love will not end with my death or yours, for we will live within each other's soul forever. Even if we separate, I will belong to you, every single part of me. I love you Arya Stark. Jon Snow is yours, today, tomorrow and until oblivion."

Arya doesn't stop the tears from spilling. Why are we so doomed? Do we not deserve happiness?

She waits till her breathing slows and begins,

"I, Arya Stark, take you Jon Snow, as my husband, in the presence of the Old Gods. I am yours and you are mine. I will love you till the stars rain down from the heavens. My body, my soul, my love, all of it is yours. Now and forever."

Jon takes her mouth in a feverish kiss, without restraint. Her arms wound around his body. Their kiss is careless, and soon she can taste the tears that are falling from both of their eyes. The taste of love, belonging, passion and tragedy.

Arya falls to her knees and pulls Jon down with her. She breaks their kiss and touches his forehead with hers, staring at his face. After what feels like hours, she looks at him and pleads, eyes full of new tears ready to spill.

"Take me, Jon."

Jon looks at her sadly.

"We cannot, Arya. We're-"

"Only Jon. Only Arya." She interrupts, "My Jon and your Arya."

Jon kisses her and it makes her fall backwards into the snow. She pulls him closer and he holds her waist, kissing her with hunger. He takes his lips off hers and whispers, voice full of want,

"Are you sure, my love? You are going to get married."

"Isn't it more convenient? If I bear your child, we could pass it off as his."

"But he'll know. The night...," his voice fades.

"I do not care."

And she leans up and kisses him again. Jon sits up and pulls her off the ground with him, making her sit on his lap. His mouth moves to her neck, making Arya moan.

She spreads her legs and straddles him. He pulls her dress up to her waist and his hands make contact with the skin of her thighs, making her throw her head back. He kisses her neck gently before pulling the dress off her. Arya shiveres as the cold air hits her skin. She holds on to Jon as he unwraps the cloak from his shoulders and puts in on the snow, then gently lays Arya on top of it.

"Kiss me, it's cold," she whispers and he does, nipping her skin and touching her till she almost doesn't feel the chill.

Jon takes one of her nipples in his mouth and sucks, and Arya clasps his shoulders. Her hands travel to his breeches and he helps her undo them. He kisses her abdomen and she pulls his hair.

Arya gasps loudly as his hand touches her cunt. He runs his finger over it and slowly inserts a finger into her. Arya moans unashamedly as Jon starts pushing his finger in and out. Her pleasure builds until she lets out a loud moan and comes.

As she tries to control her breathing, Jon leans over her and looks into her eyes, asking again silently if she's sure. Arya nods and wraps her legs around his waist.

Arya closes her eyes when he gently pushes into her. It feels a little uncomfortable. She doesn't move and Jon continues pushing until he is fully inside. He looks at her to see if she's hurting. She's not. After staying still for a few moments, she wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him closer and thrusts her hips up.

Jon lets out a growl and starts moving inside her. Arya's eyes flow to the back of her head at the intense pleasure. Jon kisses her neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, as his moves gain pace.

Arya holds on to Jon's back as both of them move in rhythm. Her moans and his groans fill the silent Godswood. At one point Arya looks up at the heart tree. She feels guilty but then shrugs the feeling off. Love cannot be wrong. Not here, not anywhere.

As they reach their peak together, Jon bites her neck, making Arya growl even louder. As he pulls himself from inside her, Arya doesn't let her hold loose. She still clutches on to him, never wanting to let go. As if understanding, Jon doesn't pull away. He simply shifts their positions, both of them now laying side by side, looking at each other. Arya pulls the cloak around them and Jon pulls her small, naked body close to his.

"My Arya...," he whispers.

"Always." She smiles.

Uncle Benjen comes the day before they leave for King's Landing. Arya doesn't see most of him because her mother is busy grooming her for the Prince. She sneaks off that night to Jon's chambers once everyone is asleep. She sees him laying awake, his arm over his head. He turns his head and seems surprised to see her.

"Arya?"

"Who else?" She closes the door behind him.

"You know if someone sees you here-"

"Jon!" She climbs on the bed, rolling her eyes. Jon turns to her and kisses her, and sits up on the bed, making her sit on his lap, his back to her chest.

"I only worry for you, love," Jon whispers in her her planting a small kiss on her neck. He wraps his arms around her waist.

"I thought you'd be asleep," she says, "It is quite a long journey to King's Landing."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Arya feels Jon stiffen behind her. She senses his tension and turns around to face him.

"What?" Her palms press to his cheeks.

"I am not going to King's Landing, Arya."

Arya's eyes widen.

"Why? Please, Jon. I may not come back here for years. You have to come with me."

"Arya," his voice is pained, and Arya anticipates something bad. "I am going to join the Night's Watch."

Arya's hands drop from his face. She watches him look down, his eyes glistening.

"No, no, no, no, no! No! You cannot leave me. Why do you want to go?" She cries.

"You are getting married, Arya." Jon's eyes are locked on hers. "There is nothing for me here now. It doesn't matter how strong I claim myself to be, I cannot watch you become his wife, nor can I ever take one myself. I will join the Night's Watch because I do not want to get married, because I am a bastard, and because I am in love with you Arya Stark, and Winterfell can never feel like home without you."

"What if I never see you again?"

Jon takes her face in his hands and drops kisses on her eyes, nose, cheeks and forehead.

"Will this be our last night together?" She pleads, sobbing.

"I do not know, love."

"Let me stay with you tonight. I want to remember you laying next to me and holding me close." Arya stops herself from breaking down completely. She sees the agony in Jon's eyes, and knows that if she cries now, Jon will break too. He couldn't. He holds her until she falls asleep shaking in his arms.

The next morning, Jon leaves. Only she, her father, Robb and Bran and Jory are present to bid him goodbye. As he rides away, he turns one last time and Arya feels her heart breaking at the thought of how long she would not be able to see that face or those eyes.

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Arya doesn't hate Aegon. He seems to be a good lad and she is surprised she likes him. But the day of their wedding this liking turns to something else. As he puts his cloak around her, she wishes it was Jon's. She wishes it was Jon's lips on hers. She regrets not running away with him. She regrets not giving him enough reason to stay. She regrets not having the courage to decline Aegon's offer. She regrets, until the likeness she feels for him turns to pain.

She is surprised when he doesn't chastise her for what she says she'd done. In the back of her mind, she wishes he would reject her as his wife. She could never be his anyway.

But he doesn't. He claims to love her and then Arya is sure there is no escape from this. She has to perform her marital duties and so she does. Jon's face comes to her mind when Aegon spills himself inside her, and she almost says his name out loud. Almost.

Arya tries to love Aegon, she really does, especially after she hears about the baby. Whoever's child it is, she and Aegon will have to take care of it together. She can see he loves her fiercely, with a passion she could never give him in return. She tries, and just when she thinks she might have a chance of loving him, the letter arrives, and Arya remembers her promise: My body, my soul, my love, all of it is yours.

Jon's. Only Jon's.

The last flicker of hope fades away when he 'commands' her not to go and see Jon. Who is he to keep her from her true husband and her only love? So she declines to follow his order. And in her head declines to never even for a second ponder again over the thought of falling in love with him.

The sight leaves her knees shaking. For the first time in years, Arya Stark feels genuine fear, one that clutches on to her heart and refuses to let go.

He has cuts all over his body. There are wounds made by arrows. She leans close and hears his breathing, searching for the consolation that he is still here, with her. They are together.

He wakes up after two weeks. His eyes look tired but they still mirror her own. It makes her smile. He looks at her and his face looks as if he has caught sight of some ghost. He says her name is a soft, raspy voice, and Arya leans forward to stroke his cheek.

"We could've run away, you know. We could've become man and wife," she whispers.

"Are we not already? You are mine as I am yours."

"Don't be so sure, love. I have bedded another."

"Trifle with me all you want, Arya. Your eyes prove my words, and they never lie to me."

As weeks pass, he becomes more weak. Arya never leaves his side if she can help it. She tells him one day that she is pregnant. He doesn't say anything, but Arya senses his unspoken words.

She herself wonders whose child it is. As her belly grows larger, she occasionally feels the trembling of the baby inside. Her palm softly presses against it. Jon's. Please be Jon's.

Her cries echo the room as she presses her forehead against his and pleads.

"Stay, stay, stay, stay. Please!"

"Arya...," his voice is so soft she barely hears it. With shaking arms, he embraces her, his fingers cold.

"You cannot leave me alone! I'll die with you!"

He lets out a low chuckle and Arya barely stops herself from falling down to her knees.

"My Arya... Do you think I will let you do that? And there is a baby in you, you would risk its life?"

"I'll burn my womb, Jon, if it means I can be with you." She says.

"Kiss me Arya, one last time," he whispers.

She leans and kisses him lightly on the lips. Her own lips shake.

"This love will not end with my death or yours, for we will live within each other's soul forever," his voice breaks, "Jon Snow is yours, today, tomorrow and until oblivion."

She kisses his lips once more before before closing her eyes and saying,

"My body, my soul, my love, all of it is yours. Now and forever."

And when she opens them, he is gone.

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It feels like a lifetime before she feels happy again. As the Maester lays the baby in her arms, she knows it is his. She can see Jon in his eyes the moment he looks at her. Her Northern Prince. She recalls her words: No power, no God, no man. It is true. Though Aegon had her a few times, her first time, the only time, with her Jon was enough.

Her marriage with Aegon crumbles. But she doesn't feel sad. Not even when he starts bringing other women to his bed. She is at least glad he isn't lonely. She knows he thinks her an ungrateful woman, but she is not. She is only a woman who had to marry a man she didn't love. Only a lonely wife who has to stay and survive her entire life without her lover and husband.

One day, when they are both seated together during a tourney, Arya looks at Aegon properly after what seems like ages, his silver hair and purple eyes.

"Did you ever love me?" His voice breaks the silence.

No, never. My heart always belonged to another.

"You're my husband. I will always love you." She lies. She knows it is to far off to lie now, but Arya is still his wife. Some things must not be said aloud, even if you want to shout it at the top of your lungs.

He looks at her sullenly,

"But it is different."

No lying now.

"From what I feel for him? Yes." Her voice has not a bit of hesitation.

"Why? Did I not love you enough?"

Arya took a deep breath.

"It was long before you loved me, Aegon. How could I have controlled something that was not in my hands? I could've pretented to love you, but what would that do? My heart can never be yours."

The boy grows up to become much like his father. Arya remembers the time they were little and played together. Jon always sided with Arya, even if that meant he had to rival Robb.

A cold wind blows and Arya's breath catches. It almost feels like home, the snow, the wools.

Brandon runs towards her. When he laughs, she remembers Jon.

A/N: I... just hope you don't wanna kill me. Leave a review please. Hope you enjoyed it.


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